


In Perfect Light

by hydraxx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 22:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15649887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydraxx/pseuds/hydraxx
Summary: No one told him outright, but... some things can't be hidden.That doesn't make them hurt less.





	In Perfect Light

“Officer Shirogane.”

Shiro glances up from his notes to find Iverson’s grim gaze fixed on his face. “Yes, sir?”

“I’d like a moment of your time. In private,” he adds.

The flicker of a frown crosses Shiro’s brow. Iverson’s mouth is pressed into a thin line that speaks of nothing pleasant to come from this conversation. It’s not a look Shiro enjoys seeing on his CO’s face.

But he’s a good soldier, so he sets his notes aside and stands. “Of course.”

Iverson jerks his head toward the hall and stalks away, clearly expecting Shiro to follow, which he does at an appropriate trot.

It’s surreal to be within Garrison walls again. Everything looks exactly the same, thanks to the defense they were able to mount against the Galra invasion, but the atmosphere… Well, it’s not hard to tell that something is off.

That this is a lonely holdout against apocalypse.

Where the halls once bustled with cadets and officers and instructors and staff, they’re now mostly silent. Only terse, hushed voices rise behind closed doors. Shiro’s been in several of those rooms since Voltron’s arrival and he doesn’t look forward to inevitably repeating the experience.

However, Iverson moves stiffly past all the meeting rooms and control decks, classrooms and offices. His goals seem to be focused elsewhere.

“Um, sorry, Commander, but…” Shiro’s words falter in contrast to his purposeful steps. “Are we going somewhere specific?”

Iverson shoots a brief look over his shoulder. Facing front once more, he answers simply, “There are some things you need to know, Shirogane, and I thought it’d be best to share that information away from the hubbub.”

That doesn’t help Shiro’s confusion at all. In fact, it amplifies it. He’s been privy to an incredible amount of classified information in the last few days but it was mostly imparted by Admiral Sanda. What could Iverson possibly have to tell him that’s so sensitive it requires… a trip outside?

Iverson’s path never hesitates as he makes his way across the Garrison grounds toward a small enclosure. It looks like a partial wall, actually. Why would they erect something like this? It looks —

Comprehension dawns bitter in Shiro’s mind. It’s a memorial.

As they draw nearer, he can see the odd, curved wall is tiled with names and photos: Garrison personnel lost to the Galra. Iverson comes to a stop at the edge of the paved patio and clasps his hands behind his back.

“I’m sure you know that we lost a good many people in the attacks and occupation,” he begins, gruff but soft. “The Garrison was the only line of defense, when it came down to it. We just weren’t prepared. Sam did everything he could, but… there wasn’t time.”

Silence settles like the inconstant desert dust.

In hushed tones, Iverson continues. “We couldn’t do much to honor them. The people who sacrificed themselves trying to save Earth. Still fighting this damn battle, you know. But this was something. A way to remember their names.”

Shiro nods silently. His eyes are already flying down columns and across rows, picking out familiar faces but never settling because he knows what’s coming.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” Iverson says quietly. “I wanted to make sure you heard it from someone — well, someone you know cares.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Shiro, Adam… he went down in the first wave.”

Something in him knew it. Something was aware the moment he didn’t see Adam’s face among the bedraggled survivors that he must be gone, and something was sure that Adam would never have fallen captive and been dragged to a work camp.

That _something_ doesn’t keep his heart from shattering any less painfully when Iverson’s words sink in just as Adam’s face rises from the multitudes.

 _Adam W._ Not much of a memorial, not even his full last name, but it’s enough to make Shiro’s knees buckle.

He catches himself with his left hand splayed against the wall, his fingers quickly curling into his palm again as he regains his feet and struggles to steady his breath. _Adam._

Iverson has fallen silent again. They both know he doesn’t need to say any more. There’s no need to defend the Garrison’s choices, no need to praise Adam’s courage in the face of destruction. He was just doing his job, as they all were. He was defending the planet he and Shiro once thought would be theirs.

Shiro bows his head and squeezes his eyes shut, but they pop open again a moment later. _Adam._ This may well be the only physical image he’ll ever have of him. The only memorial that exists outside Shiro’s own mind. Given what that mind has been through in the last years, he’ll cling to this minimal recognition like a lifeline.

Regret and sorrow form a choking braid in his throat. In the end, their parting was tense, not the overflowing of assurance that it should have been. That just wouldn’t have been possible after Adam’s decision. After Shiro’s. He didn’t even take Adam to the family day — it was Keith who tagged along for that, standing silent and unsure beside Shiro while he chatted with the Holts. They were already broken by then. Shiro’s betrayal in accepting the Kerberos mission, in fighting for it after his initial rejection, was too much for an already strained commitment.

He knew Adam wouldn’t be waiting for him. That was made abundantly clear. But he’d hoped beyond hope that maybe, just maybe, Adam would at least be _here._

The stoic face in the tiny photograph taunts him. _Adam was here,_ it says, _but you came too late._

Shiro does close his eyes, then. As the eerie silence of the empty desert surrounds him, he whispers to it, “Adam… I’m so sorry.”


End file.
